Any Day Now

by Darrell Maloney

  Tony and his best friend Jeff, bless their hearts, were trying their best to figure out why their air conditioner stopped working.

  Neither of them were very handy.

  They’d never admit it, but between the two of them they had absolutely zero talent when it came to fixing things.

  But they couldn’t afford to replace the unit. Their next door neighbors to the south had replaced their outside unit the year before to the tune of four thousand dollars.

  That would wipe out the little bit of savings they had in the bank and then some.

  Luckily, the outside unit seemed to be working fine.

  The problem seemed to be with the inside unit… the blower, inside their attic crawlspace.

  Tony called a friend at work who was a lot more talented than he when it came to electrical things.

  He had some good news: a replacement blower would be considerably less than replacing the outside condenser.

  But beyond that he wasn’t much help. He’d just gotten to work and would be there another eight hours.

  “If you can’t figure it out by the time I get off tonight I’ll swing by,” he promised Tony.

  Since then it was a case of the blind leading the blind.

  The two of them, Tony and Jeff, went over the thing inch by inch looking for something blatantly obvious.

  For anything less than obvious wouldn’t look out of the ordinary at all.

  The only clue they had was the smell of burned rubber or plastic.

  Hannah, who knew even less about mechanical equipment than both of them combined, decided to just stay out of the way.

  “I’ll be downstairs waiting for Rebecca’s call.”

  Rebecca had called her, as promised, every day for the three previous days.

  She always called about the same time.

  Three o’clock.

  Just as she promised.

  Hannah was getting very antsy.

  It was three forty.

  She was trying to keep her cool.

  She was trying not to jump to conclusions.

  But her imagination was starting to run away with her.

  Was it all a ruse? A cruel trick Rebecca decided to play on her to retaliate for Hannah’s role in sharing the Yellowstone Event with the world?

  Did Rebecca purposely make Hannah trust her, believe they were on the same side, just so she could set her up for another fall?

  Had Rebecca lied the entire time about chasing after Marilyn Petty to get her son back?

  Did Marilyn Petty even exist?

  Had she ever existed?

  Hannah shook her head.

  No. She couldn’t let herself do this. She had to keep her cool. She had to keep her wits about her.

  She had to stay sane.

  Losing it now, just when everything started looking up, would do nobody any good.

  Her bruises and lacerations were starting to heal now. Her black eye was almost gone.

  Tony too was starting to look like his old self again.

  Things were getting back to normal.

  She would not, could not, let herself take a step back.

  She decided to take a walk to help clear her head.

  Rebecca had been making her daily calls on Hannah’s cell phone. To keep from tying the young couple to the house, she’d said.

  Hannah checked the battery. It was almost fully charged.

  She called up to the attic.

  “Honey, I’m going to walk around the block.”

  “Has she called yet?”

  “Not yet. If she does I’ll come right back home.”

  “Want me to come?”

  “No. You keep doing what you’re doing. I’ll be okay.”

  She hoped.

  Chapter 4

  She didn’t get very far. Only two houses away her phone started to vibrate first, then rang a split second later.

  In her zest to hear Rebecca’s voice she didn’t check her caller ID.

  Several enterprising reporters had managed to get her cell number and she’d been trying her best to ignore any unfamiliar numbers.

  But she was lucky this time. It wasn’t a reporter. It was indeed the call she’d been waiting so impatiently for.

  “I’m sorry I’m late,” Rebecca started off. “I was in the middle of a debrief from my Toledo team.”

  “What did they say?”

  “Well, we found Bob. The man Marilyn’s sister said she usually hung out with when she went to Toledo.

  “Turns out he was her parole officer.

  “Apparently they became friends while he was her case officer, and when she completed her parole they became something more than that.

  “Highly unethical on his part, in my opinion. But apparently nothing illegal about it.”

  “Was she with him? Did she have my baby?”

  “No, he said she left a few days ago. He seems to be on the up and up. I spoke to him myself and I believe him.”

  Hannah caught her breath. So close, and yet so very far.

  “Wh… where did she go?”

  “He’s not sure. He said this is her m.o. The way she normally does things. She blows into town and stays long enough to make some money. Then she’s off again to God-knows-where.”

  “Did he see Samson?”

  “No. But he said Marilyn told him about Samson. She left him with the Catholic Women’s Services people in downtown Toledo when she was working the streets and spending time with Bob.”

  “Why didn’t he turn her in? Isn’t he considered a policeman?”

  “No, not technically. He’s an officer of the court, yes. But he’s not a policeman.

  “He does have a duty to report crimes and can take a parolee into custody if he believes they violated their parole. But Marilyn’s parole has expired.

  “She presented the child as her own anyway, and he hasn’t seen her in several months so he had no reason to question her.”

  Hannah paused for several seconds.

  So long, in fact, that Rebecca thought they’d lost the connection.

  “Hannah? You still there?”

  “I’m here. So what happens next? She could be anywhere.”

  “Bob said Marilyn said she was going to Florida. To Orlando.”

  “Oh, God. You don’t think she’s fleeing the country, do you?”

  “That was one of our first concerns. She can’t. She doesn’t have a valid passport.

  “Now, she could jump on a cruise ship and go to the U.S. Virgin Islands, or to Puerto Rico. All she’d need is a valid photo ID.

  “But she’d need a birth certificate for the baby, and we don’t think she’s gotten one yet.”

  “Yet? What do you mean? How on earth could she get a birth certificate?”

  “She’s already talked to someone in Philadelphia about obtaining a fake certificate. This is someone we’re familiar with, capable of making high-quality forgeries.”

  “Familiar with, as in he does work for you.”

  “I didn’t say that, but… maybe.”

  “Rebecca, please… I’m begging you. Don’t let him do that. Don’t let him help her take my baby someplace where we can’t find him.”

  “Relax. We’ve talked to him. If he hears from her again he is going to set her up for us.”

  “How so?”

  “He’ll make a deal with her. He’ll find out where she’s at and make plans to meet her to give her the phony birth certificate. We’ll be waiting for her as well.”

  “So that’s it? We have to wait for her to contact him? What if she never does? What if she goes to someone else?”

  “No, we’re pretty sure she’ll do business with him. They know each other. She knows his work is the best in the business. And he told her he’d cut her a break on the price.”

  Hannah went silent again.

  Rebecca gave her another little tidbit, for the purpose of raising her hopes a bit.

  “We’re working some other leads too.”


  “What kind of leads?”

  “Bob said her car was overheating. He felt bad for her and gave her a couple hundred dollars to replace her radiator, and made her promise she’d use it for that once she got to Orlando.

  “We’ve got a team going to all the garages in the Orlando area, looking for a shop that just put a new radiator on a green Chevy Impala.

  “We’ve also got a man at the airport and another one at the port. We’ve got a BOLO out for her with all the airlines and cruise lines.”

  “A BOLO?”

  “Be On the Lookout. If she tries to take a flight or a cruise anywhere, she’ll be flagged and we’ll take her into custody.

  “One of the best leads is that she told Bob she was going to try to get a job as a maid at one of the big resorts down there.”

  “Oh my God! It should be easy to find her, then.”

  “Don’t get your hopes up. There are an awful lot of resorts in the area. And she might be using an assumed name.

  “We’re going to each resort and talking to their hiring staffs and showing them photos of her. If she’s been hired, or has even applied to any of them, we’ll find her.”

  “What can I do to help?”

  “Nothing. Just trust me when I say we’ll find him and get him back.

  “Now then, are you in front of your computer?”

  “No. I’m headed back home now. I can be there in a couple of minutes. Why?”

  “The Catholic Women’s Services in Toledo takes a photograph of every baby brought into their care. I’m emailing you a photo of Samson. He’s quite a handsome young man.”

  Hannah gasped. Then she ran home at breakneck speed, almost bowling over a mailman coming down her steps.

  Chapter 5

  Marilyn was blonde but she was anything but dumb. Anyone who tried to apply the old tired stereotype to her would be embarrassed by how wrong they were.

  She was a little lacking in the ethics department, but she was actually a very smart woman.

  And she knew they’d be coming after her.

  These days she was always watching her back, on the lookout for anything suspicious.

  She was especially good at reading people and could typically tell when something was bothering them.

  Even when they didn’t want to talk about it.

  When she was cleaning room 135 at the Backwater Bay Resort there was a knock on the open doorway.

  It was her supervisor, Greg.

  “Knock, knock. Marilyn, you in there?”

  “Come in. Just finishing up the bathroom, then this one will be done.”

  “Do me a favor, will you? Lock it up and take a break, then head over to the personnel office.”

  She saw something in his face she didn’t like.

  “Sure. How come?”

  “They said your direct deposit paperwork came back from the bank. Something wrong with the account number. They said it needs to be fixed or your paycheck won’t be deposited.”

  He smiled.

  “Unless you don’t mind working for free. If you are, just don’t worry about it.”

  He was lying. She could tell.

  As she locked the door and pushed her cart down to the maid’s closet, he made his exit.

  “I’ll be back later to check up on you,” he said.

  Another lie.

  As though she wasn’t sure enough already, she watched him walk away.

  A little bit faster than he needed to.

  And he turned back, looked over his shoulder at her, just before he disappeared around a corner.

  They’d been looking for her.

  Likely a two man team in black suits, impersonating FBI agents.

  One of Rebecca’s “men in black” teams.

  They typically didn’t divulge any more information than they had to.

  They liked to leave the impression the people they were searching for were a bit unstable; a bit dangerous.

  They never explained quite what they were accused of, or why they were wanted.

  But they were always quick to stress that they weren’t to be told they were onto their prey.

  They were always careful to say, “It’s just safer for everybody to take them by surprise.”

  Hence the ruse.

  That’s why they wouldn’t just ask which building Marilyn was in and go to her. Too much chance of her barricading herself in a room. Maybe taking hostages.

  They never actually suggested such a possibility to the human resources staff in the personnel office.

  They just hinted at it.

  And it was enough.

  “How can we help?” the HR people asked.

  “Just get word to her there’s a problem with her paperwork. That she needs to come here to fix it. And tell her it needs to be done right away.

  “We’ll do the takedown when she reports in to you. That way none of your guests will be in harm’s way.”

  That term: “in harm’s way,” always got their attention.

  It implied danger. Probably gunplay.

  It scared people.

  Greg was told even less.

  That Marilyn was wanted by the FBI. That she might be armed and dangerous.

  And that she must be told to report to the personnel office immediately.

  Marilyn had a lot of down time while working for Rebecca. Lots of time sitting around motel rooms, waiting for things to happen. Waiting for her instructions to pick up this child at that location and then take them somewhere else.

  Plenty of time playing cards with other contractors or with federal agents.

  Plenty of time to hear a lot of stories of other operations, other arrests, other takedowns.

  Enough stories to recognize the signs.

  When Greg turned the corner and made his way toward the north elevator, Marilyn was already rushing down the south stairs.

  She burst through a fire escape door and exited on the back side of the building, then made her way toward her car.

  It was parked four buildings over, just in case.

  She never parked it where she was told to work on any given day.

  Still, they almost certainly knew what kind of car she was driving.

  They might have cruised the lots looking for it.

  Especially if there was more than one team.

  She’d been thinking through various scenarios in recent days. Trying to determine how such a takedown would take place if it happened.

  Of course she hoped they wouldn’t come after her at all.

  She put it at even odds the DHS would merely deny Hannah Carson’s claims. Swear on a stack of Bibles Hannah was insane and was just making the whole thing up.

  Even if they did come after her, she reasoned, it wouldn’t be in any great force.

  The DHS “goon squad,” as Marilyn’s people called themselves, had plenty of irons in the fire.

  At any given time they were working several operations at the same time, all over the country. And she doubted Rebecca’s superiors would give her any additional manpower or let her delay any of her other operations simply to catch a rogue contracted agent.

  At least she hoped not.

  If she were right about that, if there was only one two-man team assigned to do the takedown, then they were almost certainly lying in wait at the personnel office for her.

  They likely wouldn’t have a clue how long it’d take her to lock up her maid’s cart and make her way to them.

  They’d likely wait for twenty, maybe even thirty minutes, before they’d realize she was on to them and wasn’t going to show.

  That was her head start.

  Chapter 6

  As she drove up Interstate 4 Marilyn constantly checked six, looking in her rear view mirror for anyone who might be tailing her.

  She wasn’t expecting to see any local cops; Rebecca wouldn’t get them involved because they asked too many questions.

  Rebecca, like many of the shadow government agencies which worked in tandem with
legitimate agencies, loved keeping secrets.

  No, she was looking for no-frills sedans, either white or brown, more than likely Crown Victorias. Every cop and deputy in every department across the country loved them because of their huge engines and superior handling. They were the ideal pursuit vehicle.

  Ford even marketed a souped-up version and labeled it its “Pursuit” model and sold it strictly to law enforcement agencies.

  They’d be blacked out, meaning their windows would be heavily tinted and they’d have no wheel covers or hub caps.

  Used for undercover operations around the country, they were incredibly easy to spot by the bad guys.

  They were therefore seldom used for secret surveillance, as they were very conspicuous.

  Any time one of these vehicles drove down an inner city street, all drugs were instantly stashed, all illegal weapons hidden.

  Still, they were ideal for tailing suspects, because unless a runner had a lot of horses under his hood the Crown Vics would catch him every time.

  She was happy to see no such vehicles behind her, but she wasn’t out of the woods yet.

  If they’d already been to her roommate’s house there was a good chance there was another team there, waiting for her to pick up her stuff.

  It pained her so, because she couldn’t afford to replace everything.

  But she’d have to leave it all behind.

  She just couldn’t risk it.

  Luckily the car seat was still in the car, and she had a stroller in the trunk.

  It was her spare. The one with the squeaky wheel.

  The one Jacob couldn’t fall asleep in no matter how tired he was.

  The sitter had his diaper bag and she remembered it being full of diapers.

  Enough to last until she got back to Toledo, anyway.

  The formula was a different story. The can in the bag was almost empty. She’d need more very soon.

  But she could grab that along the way, and if she paid cash there was little chance of anyone tracking the transaction and using it to determine the direction she was headed.

  The cash was the problem.

  She’d taken her car in the day after she arrived in Orlando, and had been lucky in that they were able to repair the tiny hole in her radiator coil instead of having to replace it.